Cat and Mouse
by BlackrockCat
Summary: All too eager to test her mettle, a confident and cocky young Sombra thinks she can handle Genji by herself. When her devious little plan is set into motion though, one thing quickly becomes unclear. Just who is hunting whom? (Rated M for language, smut and kink).


_Author's Notes: This story came about one day, oddly enough, as I sat there trying to dream up a situation in which my two favorite Overwatch characters could shack up. I like how it turned out, maybe you will too? This is going to be a short and smutty affair (just a few chapters or so). Like/comment if you enjoy!_

* * *

"Sombra, what's your status?"

Gabriel has the voice of an angel. A fallen angel. No really, I swear. If gravel could come to life and talk, it would sound just like him. Sometimes I can't understand a single word coming out of his mouth.

 _"Sombra-"_

"Nothing on my scopes, Gabriel… stupid _cabrón."_ That last part I make sure to mutter over the comm in a way only I can hear. Then it's back to business. "Nothing to report. Just like the _last_ hour… _and_ the one before that."

My eyes flash to the digital clock on my holo-pad's virtual screen.

 _1:15 AM_

Fuck. I should be in bed right now, hacking a bank or watching porn or something. But no. Instead it's another late night and I'm sitting here in the bitter cold atop a skyscraper in Lijiang, watching and waiting for a target that might never show up. This is my life now that I work for Talon. Well… not _for_ them exactly, but _with_ them at least. Turns out I have something they want and visa versa. That's all this is, a simple temporary partnership of sorts. I work for no one but myself after all.

Nobody will ever tie me down.

Slowly I interlace my fingers below the small of my back and tug on them in a deep, almost painful shoulder stretch. A tiny hiss escapes my lips as I do so, the entire action doing some rather… interesting… things to the fit of my uniform. The supple, skintight latex never fails to cinch up between my thighs. My chest too – sometimes it feels like my breasts are being pinched and pulled from the nipples in two different directions. _Fuck._

Next time I'm _so_ wearing body paint.

I'd be lying though… if I didn't say all the aching and chafing made me just a _teensy_ bit horny. My poor nipples are already raw from the friction, each chocolate nub stiff from the unrequited attention. And my lips… the ones down there… well, let's not talk about those right now. I suppose all my piercings don't exactly help much either. I really should have worn a bra – s _omething_ at least, to prevent the chafing – but alas, that's not in the cards for this _pobrecito_. You see, active camouflage is a relatively new technology and the stealth field can only extend so far from the emitter. Even a single layer of extra clothing could throw off all my careful calibrations, opening up seams of distortion in the visibility matrix and… anyway, you get it. I _could_ have calibrated it better sure, but I have this nasty habit of programming in my underwear. In other words, to match the calibrations I'm forced to wear no bra tonight… and the absolute flimsiest pair of thong panties I could fit around my pert little-

"Keep your eyes open." Gabriel's voice barks at me over the comm, as if he has some kind of stupid alarm rigged to whenever my mind begins to wander. "The target could show up at any time."

We've only recently been acquainted, but I can already tell this man is going to have a wonderful habit of stating the painfully obvious. Like if he wasn't around to remind me, one day I might accidentally forget to breathe.

"Don't you worry Mr. Gloomy," I yawn and blink back what can only be tears of boredom. My fingers decouple and I swing my slender arms around to the front, crossing them over my chest to stretch out each tricep. "My eyes are _always_ open."

Case in point. A blip on the corner of my holo-screen catches my attention. The briefest flash of an unidentified heat signature. No discernible EMF emissions.

And there it is again.

It dances across the crown of the city like a leaf caught in the wind… it's _definitely_ heading this way. No doubt about it. It's him alright. I feel a tiny smirk tugging on the edges of my lips and slowly I turn my lupine gaze to the skyline.

That's when I see him.

He moves with such blinding speed, it's almost impossible to keep up. For a split second though, the city lights manage to catch a dull glint of carbon fiber and burnished alloy. It's little more than a blur, a shadow of black and silver slicing through the darkness, tinged here and there by the faint hue of dark crimson. I watch in silent wonder as the sinewy form comes to a halt on the rooftop across from me, his legs coiling underneath him like a cat as he lands in a full crouch. Such a beautiful specimen, all lean and wiry, his body corded with synthetic and organic muscle alike. He looks like he's been chiseled out of stone. The truth is though, I'm not sure how much of a man is still left in that tin can, or whether he even qualifies as a human being. I suppose that's what I'm here to find out.

"Target sighted."

The smirk on my lips becomes a wicked smile and I reach down to toggle a button on my holo-screen. Instantly I've pulled up his dossier – all the files Gabriel managed to take with him when he jumped ship from Overwatch. It's woefully incomplete to say the least. All the good stuff's either missing or redacted, but at least there was enough for me to do my job up to this point.

"Location?" The inflection in Gabriel's otherwise deadpan tone betrays his interest. He thinks he's so dark and mysterious, so unreadable. It's cute.

With a flick of my fingernail I activate my translocator and am whisked away, only to be deposited inside the building whose rooftop I was squatting on just a moment ago. I can't stop grinning now. Everything's going exactly according to plan. The target came right to me, just as predicted, like a marionette on a string.

How was I so sure he would come?

 _El diablo está en los detalles._

I knew he was in the area, so it was just a matter of bringing him to me. For that I used a hijacked IFF signal, a virtual identification tag belonging to one Dr. Angela Ziegler. For the past couple hours it's been emitting a local distress call, identifying her as critically injured. Of course Dr. Ziegler isn't _really_ here, but our target won't know that until it's far too late.

"Sombra, location. _Now."_ Gabriel growls at me and it seems his voice is laced with more than just a smidgen of interest. I ignore him again for the moment as I scurry over to the window, keeping keep my eye on the prize. The target has already moved to this building; his thermal signature just dropped into an elevator shaft from the roof. He's making his way down to my floor.

Ok, I'm not gonna lie.

I might be just a _little_ bit nervous, y'know? Cold feet and all that. My heart feels like it's hammering on the inside of my chest and for some reason this rosy heat has decided to bubble to the surface of my cheeks. I swear I can feel my blood rushing everywhere – and I do mean _everywhere._ God I'm _so_ fucking wet right now. I always get excited when I'm doing something I shouldn't be doing, which granted… for me is all the time. But this…

I'm _really_ playing with fire here.

 _Cinco._

My holo-pad projects an illusory screen beneath my fingertips, with a giant flashing button displayed at the center. I feel my pulse quicken even further as fresh heat dapples the bridge of my nose. The countdown has begun.

 _Quatro._

There are other heat signatures on this floor. No humans, but fully automated security bots and the like. This is a corporate skyscraper in Lijiang after all. As he gets closer though, each one seems to vanish on my scanner, dropping like a stone until only he remains. Oh my. I hope I didn't make him _too_ mad.

 _Tres._

I glare at the door with the eyes of a hungry lioness, my grin never faltering nor wavering. He's right outside now. I can hear the high-pitched whine of his vibroblade cutting into the door, the reinforced metal melting like butter around its hot knife's edge.

 _Dos._

A cool bead of sweat dribbles down my spine as I activate my stealth camouflage and begin to fade from view. This is it. This is the moment I've been waiting for.

 _Uno._

Suddenly the door explodes off its hinges and like a bat out of hell this dark silhouette with a gaze of molten red comes barreling towards me. My own eyes grow wide with shock for the briefest of moments and I almost forget to hit the switch on my holo-screen.

Almost.

There's this second where time seems to freeze and I'm caught staring into the eyes of a devil. He's angry. Furious even, his eyes smoldering like two orbs of molten lava. I know I'm invisible. I know he _shouldn't_ be able to see me… but somehow I feel like he doesn't give a damn. Is he looking right at me?

 _¡Apagando las luces!_

I close my eyes just as a brilliant flash of azure explodes out from a point behind me, the cool EMP flames enveloping my body whole. Everything goes dark and quiet. My comm is dead. Gabriel's incessant barking has now been replaced by the simple yet oddly pleasurable crackle of static. The lights are out, the air conditioner too, and lying before me in a crumpled heap of gleaming metal and glorious man is none other than my target, Ex-Blackwatch operative Genji Shimada.

This is where the fun begins.

You can call it a fascination. Call it an obsession. _Whatever._ Ever since I read about him in Gabriel's files, I _knew_ I had to see Genji in person. I mean, look at him. He's even more beautiful up close and personal. I've never seen anything like this before. These aren't just cybernetic upgrades, no. Not like the neural implants or nano-machines in my spine. No… literally _half_ of Genji's body must be synthetic. Parts of his critical structure and vital organs, all man-made. What I don't know though, is _how_ much of him is artificial and whether or not he can be exploited because of it.

Both of these things I very much intend to find out.

Slowly I sink to my knees, tracing my fingers along the human half of his frame. That tanned musculature – all sinewy and scarred from top to bottom – it seems to fuse almost seamlessly with his artificial half. What about his face? Synthetic too? I can only see his hair and eyes right now. There must be a way to detach his faceplate from the outside… and my heart almost skips a beat when I hear it click beneath my fingers. Slowly I start to work the latches free, and then-

 _Dios mío._

This man… is actually quite handsome.

He's got this chiseled and rugged look about him, scarred but clean-shaven. The type of jawline I would love to press my own lips against, given half the chance. Such strong, sharp features… _que guapo._ Now I'm wondering if this 'man' half extends all the way down to his-

Ok. Get a hold of yourself woman.

I mean… it wouldn't hurt to take a peek, right? Just a peek. All in the name of science. Like, hypothetically speaking, let's say he and I were the last two people on earth and I needed to fuck him. Would I be able to? Inquiring minds need to know! Having convinced myself this is the right course of action, I fish out his vibroknife and begin to cut away at the armor along his pubic bone. Carefully, of course. Don't want an accident. So far there's just layer after layer of high-density durasteel… then padding, and finally-

Ok. Oh god.

There's _far_ more 'man' here than I originally thought.

Of course he has a package, and a generous one at that. Jesus, i-it's _so… big,_ even flaccid as it is right now. I-I can't help but wonder… what it would look like… if I teased it a little? Like honestly, how much bigger would it-

Ok. Fuck.

Before I can convince myself as to just how stupid of an idea this is, I find my dainty little fingers curling around the base of his heavy shaft. The first stroke is the most tentative, but already I feel his girth swell in my hands. This only serves to encourage me. I spit on his tip now, my saliva dribbling down his foreskin in thick globs to pool between my fingers. Back and forth my hand starts to move, every pump like magic. He's getting bigger and bigger.

I… I sort of want to know… what he… tastes like?

Alright _puta,_ that's where I draw the line. There's no way in hell I'm putting his fucking cock in my-

The next thing I know I'm sliding my leggings down to my ankles and kicking them off, shirking my panties aside in the process. _Fuck._ Ruined another pair. The flimsy lace thong is soaking wet and my juices are already dribbling down the inside of my thighs in sticky little strands. I can feel a lingering coolness every time the wind blows. Slowly I sink back to the floor, knees straddling his legs. My right hand returns to gripping the base of his shaft while the other works to spreads my own smooth little sex apart, teasing the hood of my pierced clit with sinuous flicks of one fingernail.

His cock is _throbbing_ in the palm of my hand, fully engorged and pulsing like a drum. I can't help but whimper the moment I lean forward to plant a soft kiss against its head, feeling the raw heat boil my lips. My tongue swirls about as I form a wet seal upon his crown, lapping up a tiny dollop of pre-cum in the process. It's hot and dirty, just a bit salty.

 _Exactly_ how I like my men.

Slowly I start to sink lower, using his thick girth to stifle my moans… but it's already too late for that. I'm mewling like a _puta_ in heat, my back arching like a pussycat as my lips slide further and further down his shaft. I'm sucking and slurping as if my life depended on it. I can't help but drool all over myself now, a pool of spit forming under his balls. They say I have a big mouth. Maybe because I talk too much? But the truth is right now it feels very, very tiny. Every inch I go is excruciating.

And I love it.

 _Fuck,_ I can't stop playing with myself… torturing the tiny barbell in the hood of my clit with just my fingernails. Why does that turn me on? Really, it doesn't take much to bring me to the edge any more. I can already feel my muscles tensing, my body getting flushed and feverish. I'm close, but I'm not about to stop. No way.

How can I when I'm not done sucking this magnificent cock?

I start to rock back and forth on the balls of my feet, getting a steady rhythm going. Up and down, up and down… pistoning his shaft with every inch of my mouth. After a while my toes begin to curl and each stroke gets shorter and slower. I can't hold on much longer. I-I think… I'm gonna-

"Find what you're looking for, _koneko-chan?"_

Out of nowhere a muscular hand clamps down on the back of my head, forcing my lips flush to the base of his shaft and holding me at my limit. I feel the weight of his balls slap against my chin and the crown of his cock hit the back of my throat. Frantically I start to gag. My nostrils flare, eyes growing wide as tears well up in their corners. I'm burbling and whimpering uncontrollably now, trying in vain to push myself away from his abdomen. I can't. Instead my my tear-filled gaze cranks upward to see Genji very much alert and awake, glaring at me with a curious, almost devilish look plastered across his angular features.

 _The EMP. How did he…?!_

"Such a naughty kitten," he shakes his head while clicking his tongue against his teeth, mocking me in my desperate attempts to breathe around his meat. "Was this the plan all along?"

I try to lift my head again but he keeps me down with just three fingers and the palm of his hand, controlling me as if I were nothing but his fuck toy. My throat is so full I can't even begin to try and bite.

I am completely at his mercy.

"I hope you've learned your lesson." He tilts his head at me as I flounder over his cock, his slender brow narrowing to a point.

With my eyes threatening to roll into the back of my head I let out the most pathetic whimper I can muster. My half-lidded gaze pleads with him, tears and snot streaming down my face. Only _then_ does he relent. As soon as his hand leaves my hair I slide off his cock and fold over like a wet noodle into a pool of spit and tears. I can't stop coughing. "… _Cabrón…"_ I growl finally with all the venom I can summon, wiping saliva and semen from my chin.

He's _dead._

Without a second thought I snatch up my machine pistol and my trembling fingers yank back the trigger before I even have a chance to aim. A split-second later a spray of spent cases is flying from the chamber as I stagger backwards and weave the gun from left to right. I'm screaming at the top of my lungs, but I can't hear myself at all. The blood rushing to my temples is too damn loud. A moment later I'm still standing there with an empty gun clicking over and over, my breasts heaving and my panties still somehow clinging to one ankle. Genji's standing there too, completely untouched. There's a serrated knife glowing white-hot in his left hand.

Motherfucker deflected every single bullet.

"Come on _koneko-chan,"_ he lilts with a casual grin as he takes a step forward, his heavy meat still dangling semi-flaccid against his armored thighs. "I thought we had something special?"

 _"Fuck you,"_ I manage to snarl, nearly falling on my ass as spittle and seed continues to dribble down my chin. I can't get the taste of his cock out of my mouth. "W-what do you keep calling me? _Ko…neko?"_

Genji chuckles. Such a manly and boisterous bellow. It makes me shiver.

"It means kitten in Japanese. Understand? I thought we were playing a game… of cat and mouse." He smirks again and points at me with his carbon-laced chin, sinewy forearms folding across his chest. "You are the cat and I am the-"

Of course, I don't give a shit.

No, in the time he took to answer that question, I managed to fish another EMP grenade out of my pack. I don't wait for him to finish – hell no. It's already sailing through the air, armed and primed, right towards his smarmy little head. But the grenade never hits its mark. In that moment my eyes grow wider than they've ever been before. This next part I can't make up.

In the blink of an eye, Genji literally snatches the canister out of mid air and crushes it with his bare hand, destroying it before it can detonate.

 _¡Santo Dios!_

I'll always be a step ahead though. I'm already vanishing from sight, the space around me rippling like waves in a pond as my active camouflage goes online. I'm darting through the darkness now, hurtling towards the broken door as fast as my shapely legs will carry me. Just before I'm through it though, I decide to shoot a sidelong glance over my shoulder, if only to take one last look at Mr. Robot's infuriatingly fine ass. When I turn to do so, what greets me instead is the razor-sharp burn of a shuriken whizzing past my face, the blade painting a thin line of red down my cheek. I yelp as a second one hits me right between the shoulder blades with a loud chunk. Direct hit on the active camouflage emitter. _How the fuck?_ Just like that my body flickers back into existence, but I'm already hurtling headlong through the door.

I can still make it out.

That is of course, until a _third_ shuriken glances off my thigh and I cry out in pain, dropping to the floor in an unceremonious heap of sweat-caked caramel skin and barely-there black latex.

"Huh." He whispers. "Guess I was wrong _."_

Suddenly he is towering above me in all his terrifyingly masculine glory. His metallic arm grabs both of my hands, only to pin them behind my head at a taxing angle. A whimper escapes my lips as he raises his elbow and prepares to drive it into the base of my neck. I look up at him, into the dark halo of his face… his rippling raven hair and crimson-flecked gaze. He smiles back at me.

"Looks like you were the mouse all along."


End file.
